ic inbox.

[espouses]

 
"Hello, this is Hawke, saviour of the damned and defender of the weak - or something like that. 
I seem to be absent, so, please, leave a note, letter or demand for money at your earliest convenience.
If Anders did something then I hope an apology will make it better. I'm sorry?"

ic inbox for marian hawke at asgard
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Comments

[espouses]

That is what the Marchers call us. Ferelden Dogs. I have nothing against Elves at all - two of my dearest friends are elven, actually.

Perhaps I could simply slit their throats over her water bowl? I'm sure Alistair wouldn't mind. He's used to blood and death.

[tumbler]

It is good for humans to have have elven friends, I have found; they make for excellent means of winning arguments. You may ask my human friend, I believe he lives next door to you.

Yes, but usually not on his carpet. He has a surprisingly refined taste when it comes to interior design.

[espouses]

One of them is a blood mage and the other can rip your heart out with his hand. It's self-defence rather than argument winning, I've found.

Surprising for the song of royal blood?

[tumbler]

A wise choice! It is well known, we elves are savage and feral beasts.

Surprising for the scent of royal blood. Who would have known it was so similar to wet mabari!

[espouses]

Of course. More people need to understand that, don't you think?

There is nothing wrong with the scent of wet mabari.

[tumbler]

Yes! And so good you know.

Ah, I forgot the Fereldan cultural tradition of scent-blindness. Do forgive.

[espouses]

It is not scent-blindness. It's called 'adaptation'.

[tumbler]

Ah, yes. Hip deep in mud and dogshit: the truest of acquired tastes.

[espouses]

I believe that is a euphemism for Ferelden, yes.